Imperfectionist Poem by Adrija Dey

People call me a dreamer
An imperfect Dreamer
And that is what is I am
The sky does not mean to me the eternal heaven
But a vast expansion of my Imagination
My room broken and scattered
But this is where I spend my Peace
My Guitar plays the same song on and on
People call it noise
But that is my Music
People see the little child crawling on the footpath
Ignore it and say unfortunate
To me they are beautiful
I am not perfect nor do I want to be
For my beauty lies in my imperfection
And that’s what makes me unique
My thoughts strangely complex
But they are the imperfect dreams to make a difference
My poems are abruptly incomplete
But they are my imperfect creations
They perfectly speak my mind
My music does not obey the notes of perfect melody
But it is the music of my soul
I stand on the stage, spotlights on me
And I scream……………..Again and again
For one imperfect Heart
To listen to my imperfect Song
To believe in my imperfect Thoughts
And to realize my imperfect Dreams